The Forgotten Son
by Valentina LaFontaine
Summary: Cassim had a son before Aladdin and sees him with his mother suddenly. All the memories of rhw sinful affair come back to him for better or for worse.


"Do you think the baby would be too hot in a darker cloth? Maybe a lighter color will be better. Then again it does get very cold at night. So maybe we can buy a darker one and a lighter one. Then again what if it's a girl. Then she'll want something pretty."

Cassim smiled. His wife always worried about the kid. Since the minute she found she was pregnant. She had been spending the extra money on making the house comfortable and safe dor the baby. Cassim didn't have the heart to tell her to stop shopping. A baby was the only thing she wanted besides marriage. "I'm sure the baby will like anything that its mother gives him."

"Cassim," she said holding the darker red cloth to his face, and using the other hand to hold the light blue cloth. "She deserves the best. Everything that I never had she will have."

"How can you be so sure it's a girl?" he asked.

"One of our neighbors said the way I was carrying it looked like a boy. But I feel like it's a girl. I hope it is."

"A first born son is good luck though."

"Well, she would be my good luck. But I'll be happy with whatever Allah brings to us. We can't fight fate afterall." She examined the blue cloth and noticed a hole in it. "Oh no." she said in a huff. "I can't believe this. I don't have the time to sew this. The baby will be here anyday now. I'm going to ask for a fresh one." She walked herself back to where the cloth stand was. Cassim shook his head and chuckled to himself. He browsed some of the different weapons that were on display. He thought he saw someone familiar at first glance from the corner of his eye, but when she looked just like her he had to turn his head.

Cassim couldn't help but stare at the pale woman holding the hand of her young child of about three he assumed. The woman's curly hair was dirty, and uncombed and her face wasn't any better. It was tainted with dirt and grime probably from her attempts at a job only for a man. She wasn't like most of the women in Agrabah. Instead of wearing beautiful dresses, perfumes, and make up to attract a husband. She choose to wear mens clothes, that hung loosely from her skinny frame, and would rather roll around in dirt than put a drop of make up. She wasn't much of a catch. She wasn't busty or had much of a figure. Even if she did she was never one to indulge. She couldn't stand to smell like a fancy bottle. She perferred to smell naturally. To her a natural smell was the smell of a freshly open bottle of booze. She was the biggest drinker he had ever seen.

He had seen her once and only once dressed in a beautiful dark purple dress. Her curly hair was cleaned and pulled back into a high pony tail and slight traces of make up enhanced her and made her...beautiful. That was the night he was with her in the way, only man and woman could be in. That night he saw her as more than his companion to help him steal, fight, and drink in taverns. She was beautiful in her own way but she never let him know how she felt about him till that night.

He'd thought of her doing many things. He'd thought of her joining a gang of thieves again, or even enjoying the company of many men in one night but he never thought of her as the type of woman to embrace motherhood. She resented marriage and especially motherhood.

"I had a child once." he remembered her saying as she drank her poison. She rested her head on his shoulder, her breath stank of the grog. He was tempted to turn his head but he didn't want to face her anger. She burped and continued. Her words slurred together so horribly that he had to strain to understand her. "She died right in my arms. I didn't even get the chance to name her. I don't know who her father was. But she was beautiful."

He knew she wasn't marrige material (not that it mattered), but only he knew the life she had lived for so long the bastard children, fornication, the hard drinking, the cursing ever other word, dressing as a boy, fighting, would all be excused. It was something she adopted as a way to retain her humility. She was from the slums and had to fight all her life from the men that wanted to use her for their advantage. Being a girl on the streets of the cut throat, impoverished Agrabah. There wasn't any room to be soft.

He had known her for four years before he met his wife and in that time the pale woman had never invested emotion into anything she had but when she picked up the young boy, handed him a apple and paid for it she seemed happier than he'd ever seen her. The little boy wrapped his arms around her neck and she kissed his cheek and stroked his hair. He couldn't help but smile as she headed toward his direction.

The closer they walked to him the better he could see them. The child was as light skinned as his mother, hair as black as night and just as curly, but when the woman placed him down on the sandy ground and his face came in clear view Cassism's heart dropped. The almond shaped, dark eyes looked just as his.

He shook his head trying to make sense but it didn't take a genius to figure out that she left Agrabah three years ago after their encounter. She knew he was going to marry Johara the beautiful girl he had been seeing on and off. She didn't even bothered to say goodbye. If he'd fathered her child she would've known and she would've told him.

He pushed those thougts out of his head as irrational paranoia. There were many people with dark eyes just as his. But he felt a strong connection to the boy in a unexplainable way.

He wondered if she worried about the boys repuation. One thing was for certain, the boys mother was a tough woman and though he was a bastard he knew she wouldn't hear anything of it. She was a fighter after all. She fought for money and pleasure and not just women or weak men but men of all kinds. She led a gang of men to another mans door because he owed her money in a bet and he ran like the coward he was. Once she caught up to him she head butted him only once and he fell to the ground. She took her money plus a bonus.

He remembered fighting her before he had seen her as more than anything but a chance to win money. He did beat her, but not without getting a nasty migraine, a broken nose, and a black eye. Not all of it was from her throwing punches, it was her horrible head butts that she was famous for.

"Hey!" he called to her after their first fight. She ignored him and kept making her way out of the crowd of men. He ran up to her to try and catch up to her. Her face was bruised and cut pretty badly but it seemed like she didn't care. "Hey!"

"What do you want?" she asked.

"What's your name again?"

"None of your damn business. You got your money now leave me alone."

"No I just wanted to say you fight very good." That stopped her. She put her hand on her hips and nodded. "Well, uh thanks." she smiled halfway. "You fight pretty damn good too."

"Would you like a drink?"

"Damn straight. I've been dying for one all day. If you buy the first round, I'll buy the second."

"Only if you tell me your name." he said with a grin on his face.

The woman shook her head and replied. "Dalaria. You?"

"Cassim."

"Cassim? That's a little sexy." she said with a obnoxious cackle. "Well lets go get that round."

Half of her money was spent on getting enough drinks to get her through the day. She worried about the next round while he worried about getting caught for public drunkenness. She'd curse, fight, spit, and even had the same walk as a man and by the grace of Allah she had a temper and it got worse when she was drunk. She was some kind of woman.

However he questioned as he stared at his possinble son if he loved her. Of course the answer was no. He didn't love her the same way he loved his wife Johara. He enjoyed her company and he enjoyed her for being unique but he didn't love her. She would never be tamed enough to be a wife. He wondered what she was like as a mother. She had to be free to make her own choices and follow the path that came to her.

When her eyes finally met his there was no way of turning back. If he even looked away she could go off in a tantrum. She stopped frozen in her spot. He could practically smell the liquor off of her pretty strongly, but her child was well dressed and was freshly clean. The boy held his arms up to her and she picked him up. He wrapped his arms around his mothers neck and leaned into her. He looked at him with wonder and he felt the connection even stronger this time. The same connection he shared with his unborn child. The boy looked at his mother. "Mommy?" he asked. "Whose that?"

Cassim swallowed hard and stood there nervously. He checked to see if his pregnant wife just happened to be walking by. Both of the women shared one thing in common and that was there temper but Johara was calmer than his former lover.

"Dalaria." Cassim said with a nod.

"Cassim." She said plainly. Her face was straight and tight avoiding any emotion. "Shopping with the wife?" she asked. Her voice contained no hint of disdain but somehow in the back of his mind he felt her pain. She was raising a child among the judgmental eyes, but he rationalized that she should've told him. He was uncomfortable with the thought of being married to her and not to Johara. A marriage for the simple sake of a baby. He didn't want to deal with her temper or her drunken nights, or her cursing and acting like a savage. It simply wasn't proper for a woman, but if that was his son he desperately wanted to be apart of his life.

"Yes." He said simply.

Dalaria looked at her son. "My son," she said softly. "Look at him." He did as she said, his big black eyes surveying him up and down.

"Who is he?" he asked, looking away from him to her. He ran his fingers through her curly dark hair.

"No my son." She said, "Don't look away." He looked back at Cassim. Cassim from the corner of his eye saw his wife heading towards their direction. With every step she took he became increasengly anxious. "I want you to remember his face." Dalaria rubbed her nose against her sons cheek.

"Why?" he asked, not looking away from him.

"One day I'll tell you." She replied, stroking her sons hair.

Johara walked toward him with a large smile on her face. "Cassim. I got a deal on some blankets for the baby-." She stopped when she noticed Dalaria and the young child in her arms. "Hello." She said with a sweet smile. Dalaria tested Johara's her sincerity and didn't smile, but nodded her head and replied. "Good morning." She turned to Cassim. "Thank you for helping me find my son." She said with a wink. The boy scrunched up his nose in confusion.

"Uh… you're welcome." Cassim lied scratching the back of his head nervously. "He's a fast one."

"Uh huh." Dalaria replied. "Good day." She said, taking off. The boy turned to his mommy and said. "But I wasn't lost-." She cupped a hand over his mouth and continued to hurry down the street of the marketplace.

Johara looked from the young mother and child to Cassim. "Is there anything you need to tell me?" she asked with a suspicious eyebrow raised.

He debated about telling her, but now was not the time to get his wife upset. He struggled with the thought of leaving his possible son behind and the boy needed a father, but Johara wouldn't welcome Dalaria with open arms. She was a kind woman but it was hard to live with a woman like that and love her unconditionally. Instead of possibly fighting her, he shook his head and replied. "Not at all."

"Oh okay." she said. "If you're sure."

Cassim stared at Dalaria and her son in her arms. He prayed that one day he could make it right to the boy. Make it possible for him to have a man in his life. He only knew of his existence for maybe a minute or two but it hurt just as much for him to leave. He hoped he would meet him again one day soon. Until then he had to focus on his new family.

"So what do you think of the names I thought of?" she asked.

"What were they again?" he asked, looking at a dagger that was finely crafted.

"Well if it's a boy I was thinking of Aladdin."

"Aladdin?" he asked. He nodded his head and shrugged. "I like it."

"Me too." she said wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. "I like it a lot."


End file.
